Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Brazil and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Joe Smooth to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
The Fuzztones,
a-ha,
The Sonics,
The Monks,
Sparks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Motorama,
The Busters,
The Invisible,
Desert Stars,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ossler,
Buzzcocks,
Pussy Galore,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Youth Brigade,
The Shadows of Knight,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Moleskins,
Unwound,
Big Daddy Kane,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Human League,
Joe Finger,
Bluetip,
Wally Richardson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Josef K,
Mark Hollis,
Dave Gahan,
Cluster,
the Bar-Kays,
Radiohead,
Barrington Levy,
Rites of Spring,
New York Dolls,
Yazoo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pulsallama,
The Victims,
Laurel Aitken,
Isaac Hayes,
Barbara Tucker,
The Knickerbockers,
Brothers Johnson,
Scan 7,
Eli Mardock,
Brick,
The J.B.'s,
Marine Girls,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Doors,
Vladislav Delay,
Moby Grape,
Depeche Mode,
Wolf Eyes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Babytalk,
Amon Düül,
Skriet,
Barry Ungar,
Bauhaus,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.